Walking in the Dark
by Emmithar
Summary: There are times when certain events happen for a reason, no matter how bad they seem. Yet it was hard to believe that this was one of these times. SaraGreg eventually
1. Chapter 1

**Walking in the Dark**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI, I am only borrowing them for the current time.

**Summary: **There are times when certain events happen for a reason, no matter how bad they seem. Yet it was hard to believe that this was one of these times. Sara/Greg eventually

* * *

**Chapter One: Panic**

It was the metallic taste of blood that first alerted him that something was wrong. The concrete below him was hard, fragments of rocks clinging to his skin as he raised his head. The pain from his actions was too much, as he felt the ground beneath him tip and turn, twisting his already unsettled stomach into more knots.

At first, it was hard to breathe; the combination of the pain and nausea he felt was closing in on him. Slowly he sucked in a few deep breaths, holding them for a moment before releasing them. His thoughts spun around him, moving so quickly it was hard to grasp onto any of them. What had happened?

* * *

Sara pushed her hair from her face, mentally cursing herself for not bringing a tie. She had thought about pulling her hair back earlier that night, before she left home, but had decided against it. Not that it was necessarily a big deal; after all, she did have more ties at work in her locker. Or so she thought. 

Now she wished desperately that she had pulled her hair up before leaving. It was a nuisance, a rather annoying one at that. Leaning back over the table she continued to chart out the area on the map, coming to another stop as her hair fell down in front of her face once again.

Frowning, she reached up with her left hand, gathering the loose hair in a fist to move it behind her head. She held it in a firm grasp, turning her attention back to the map. This would work as long as she needed only one hand.

"How's it coming?"

Sara glanced up at Nick, who was wandering in from the hallway. He leaned against the table, studying her progress. Sara smiled up at him, placing the pen down. "Slowly," she admitted, "I'm running out of options. There's only two routes our killer could have taken, but I don't think either of them would have been his choice."

Nick nodded thoughtfully, straightening up. "Well, if you want a break, Brass just got those two dumpsters from the Sampton's Case; I could always use a hand there."

Sara smiled up at him, "Sounds lovely, whatever happened to asking Warrick?"

"He left early," Nick admitted. "It was his night off after all; he didn't have to come into work in the first place. I suppose I could ask Catherine, but I thought of asking you first."

"How kind," Sara muttered. "You'd ask me to go dumpster diving with you, but you won't ask me to come to a game with you."

"That's because Greg and I have a score to settle," Nick stated quickly. "Besides, dumpster diving is so much more…" he paused, trying to find the right word.

"You had better not say romantic," Sara warned him, running a hand through her tangled hair.

"I was going to say interesting," Nick interjected.

She laughed, nodding. "That you could say, but I'll have to pass up the offer. I need to finish this up, and then when Greg gets back we're headed back out to the scene. Looks like you're on your own, big boy."

Nick nodded, giving her a small smile. "Don't say I didn't ask," he warned her, heading out of the room.

Laughing softly she shook her head, resuming her previous work. Come to think of it, Greg had been gone a rather long time, then again, maybe it was only her imagination.

* * *

At the moment, Greg had made very little progress. He had managed to roll onto his side, though he wasn't certain this position was much better than his last. His body still felt as though it was on fire, and the slightest movements, such as breathing, only aggravated the pain further. 

He had spent the little time he had been awake trying to recall everything that had happen. So far all he had gotten was a complete jumbled mess. Yet slowly, he was starting to sort everything out.

It had been a long day, for him at least. In the previous night, as he was getting ready to leave, when he had come across several forms he had Sara had forgotten to fill out. Instead of calling Sara back in, Greg had spent his own time off the clock trying to get them done. It had taken longer than he expected. So much longer in fact by the time he had finished, his next shift started in less than an hour.

It was enough time to grab a quick shower, and small bite to eat. He had thought about going home early, but didn't want to risk having Sara know that he stayed late. She would be infuriated with him. So instead he just stuck to the excuse that he hadn't gotten very much sleep the previous night. It really wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

Besides, he wouldn't pass up a chance of working with Sara. Years ago he never thought it would be possible that he would be spending so much time with her. He could remember the first time he met her, finding himself speechless. As he came to know her, he found her personality indescribable, but was never able to bring his thoughts and feelings up. He was always too much of a chicken. Love was truly the only thing that could make a grown man weak at the knees. Sadly, he knew that Sara would look at him in the same way.

He let out a low breath, squeezing his eyes shut. They had worked steadily without a break until early that morning. Sara had sat down with her own lunch in the break room, but for Greg, he had nothing to eat.

* * *

"He left for the Deli," Sara stated quietly, looking up at him. "That was nearly two hours ago now. The Deli's only ten minutes away. Even if he stayed there to eat, he should have been back by now. Something's wrong." 

Grissom glanced from his watch before looking up at her. "Have you tried giving him a call?"

Sara rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back in the chair. "Of course not," she muttered sarcastically, earning a reprimanding look from her supervisor. "What did you expect?" she asked, tapping her fingers on her arm.

"I'm gathering he didn't answer," Grissom stated quietly.

"Oh no, he did. He wanted to let me know that he was okay and was just going to be back a little late," Sara scoffed lightly. Her attitude changed at Grissom's next glance. "No Griss, he didn't answer. If he did, do you think I'd be here?"

"I think you're overreacting a bit," Grissom pointed out to her.

Sara returned comment with a frown. "No," she stated, "overreacting would be if he had been gone only half an hour. Overreacting would be if he didn't call me every ten minutes to let me know he was still alive. This, this is not overreacting. Something is wrong."

"What do you want me to do?" Grissom asked, ignoring her outburst. "I can send Brass out to look for him, let him know that he's been gone for only a few hours. The department won't do anything; a person has to be missing for at least 24 hours before being reported as missing."

"So," Sara stated coldly, "That's it?"

"You're being a little unfair and nowhere near professional," Grissom warned her. "There could be several reasons to why Greg isn't back yet."

"Give me one good one," Sara prompted.

Sighing, Grissom sat up, shaking his head. "Traffic could be bad."

"Greg walked to the Deli," Sara interjected.

"Okay then, there could be a train…"

"You know as well as I do that there is no train between here and the Deli."

"He could have gone home," Grissom suggested.

"And left his car here?" Sara wondered. "His apartment buildings are on the other side of town. It would take his entire break just to walk there. Why would he say one thing and do another? I've never known Greg to lie."

"Maybe he ate at the Deli and fell asleep," Grissom pointed out. "You said he was tired."

"I called the Deli; they don't remember him coming in."

Grissom frowned, shaking his head. "You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Almost," Sara responded. "Just not to where Greg is."

* * *

He really wasn't hungry, but he needed to stretch his legs, or run the risk of falling asleep. He reminded himself that they only had four more hours until their shift was over, that was unless they were working another double. Greg prayed that wouldn't be the case. Another ten hours would be overwhelming. 

Walking the streets of Vegas at this hour wasn't always the best idea. Then again this part of town wasn't necessarily bad, and as long as you kept moving, you should be fine. Still, these matters weren't on his mind as he made his way towards the Deli.

He wasn't aware that someone was following him. Not until that same person was walking in stride with him. Frowning, Greg stepped to the side to allow the both of them more room.

"Hey man, you have a few bucks to spare?"

Greg shook his head, burying his hands into his pockets. "Sorry," he muttered, still moving.

The other man followed him still, his black hair tangled in long locks. He wasn't too much shorter than Greg, but was obviously younger. More in likely a homeless teen, a runaway. The lab worked on several cases a year involving these teens.

"You don't have anything you can spare?"

Greg shook his head again, coming to a stop to face the young boy. "Listen, if you need help, there are several shelters you could look into. It's a lot better option than staying on the streets."

Greg turned back around to continue walking, but was startled to find two other men blocking his path. One of them held a small knife up threateningly, giving him an uneasy smile. "Personally, we like staying on the streets," the one holding the knife scoffed.

Greg backed away slowly, but didn't get far as he saw the teen now held a knife as well. The third man, who couldn't be much older than himself, stepped towards him, wrapping an arm around Greg's shoulder.

Greg cringed slightly as the older man started hustling him along, falling in step with the two others. "We're going to go for a nice walk," he replied, his voice quiet so that only he heard. "And you won't make a fuss about it, will you?"

Greg shook his head, holding his breath as they continued on. As far as he knew, two of the men were armed, and perhaps the third one. If the streets had been busier, maybe he would have tried to get away sooner, but with the streets in this area quiet, Greg decided not to risk it. As long as he complied, he wouldn't get hurt, right?

* * *

Why did it have to rain? Sara looked bitterly at the sky before pulling her hood on, trudging down the streets, flashlight in hand. Talking with Grissom had gotten her nowhere. Her supervisor had sympathy, but still insisted she was overreacting. Maybe she was, but she rather be wrong to find out later that her instincts were right.

Greg wouldn't go that long without contacting anyone. It wasn't like him, which was why she knew something was wrong. Greg had never made it to the Deli. The workers there knew everyone from the lab quite well, since they were regulars. The simple thought worried her more.

The beam of her flashlight swept over the street, and she took turns pausing at each alleyway, calling out Greg's name. She wasn't sure why she was assuming the worst. Somehow it was the only thought stuck on her mind. 

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she gasped, turning around swiftly, shining the beam of the flashlight in his face. Nick blinked, holding up his hand to shield his eyes. "Easy, it's just me," he stuttered quickly.

Sara let out a sigh of relief, cursing under her breath. "Don't do that," she warned. "Why are you even here?"

"I heard about Greg," Nick stated, "Thought you could use a hand."

Sara nodded solemnly, turning back around. "I know something's wrong," she said quietly. "I just wish I knew what."

Greg's worry only increased the further they went. They moved quickly down the street, their pace never ceasing. They never said another word to him, and Greg took the opportunity to search his surroundings. They were already past the Deli now, still headed north.

He only needed a short moment of distraction in order to get away. They were taking him somewhere secluded, even more so then these streets. That alone was a disturbing thought. Who knew how much time he had left?

Taking a deep breath, Greg pulled free of their grasp, not stopping to look back as he ran down the street. They were not far behind; he could hear their feet pounding into the concrete behind him.

Turning the corner Greg continued his sprint, with no real plan on going anywhere, but instead of just getting away. He didn't have much time to think, as a hand grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling him off balance.

He fought back, swinging his arms in attempt to push them off. A quick blow to his head startled him, causing him to stagger sideways. Another blow to his midsection dropped him to his knees, gasping for breath.

Coughing a few times, Greg glanced up at the three men who surrounded him, wincing as one grabbed him by the back of the neck roughly, pulling him to his feet. Greg stumbled as he was pulled into the alleyway, the two older men pinning him against the wall as the teen checked his pockets pulling free his wallet and phone.

"Only has a couple of tens," the teen scoffed, causing Greg to raise his head.

"I told you I didn't have anything to spare," he said hesitantly. The comment earned him another blow to the midsection. Greg leaned over as far as the men would allow him, wheezing painfully.

"Where's the rest of the cash?" one asked him, prompting Greg to shake his head.

"There isn't anymore," Greg rasped, trying to pull free.

"You expect me to believe that you only have twenty dollars on you? You have any idea where you are? Las Vegas man, cough up the cash," the teen scoffed lightly, pulling free his knife to make his point clear.

**TBC**


	2. Questions

**Chapter Two: Questions**

Sara pushed her hair back from her face, the wet strands clinging to her clammy skin. Nick closed the door behind them, watching as Sara slumped against the wall. They had searched for nearly an hour, and had come up with nothing. The worry that Sara had earlier had now passed to Nick. He could feel the anxiety building up between them.

Still he made no move to say anything, unsure if breaking the silence was the best idea. Sara let out a long breath, folding her arms across her chest. Her face was flushed, her clothes drenched. Nick knew that he didn't look any better.

"Let's head out to his place," Nick finally suggested, watching her expression as he continued. "Maybe he did head home."

Sara shook her head slowly, "He wouldn't walk that far, not at this time of day. He's smarter than that Nicky."

"Try his cell again, maybe he got distracted, followed a lead or something. He could be in the lab somewhere even; we just have to look again."

"I'm tempted to check the hospitals," she muttered, shaking her head as Nick protested.

She opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped short as the doors to the lab suddenly swung open, Greg pushing past them slowly. Anger and frustration swept through her firstly, before giving away to worry and concern as she saw him staggering, one hand wrapped around his chest.

Nick saw it too, unable to move as Greg came to a stop, watching the two of them. His face was bloody, bruises lining his left eye, and his lower lip swollen. It was Sara who moved first, reaching to grab his forearm but Greg pulled away.

"Greg," Sara breathed lightly, watching his crestfallen expression. "What happened?"

Greg swallowed, shaking his head lightly. Nick took a step back, pulling his hands free of his pockets. "I'm going to get some help; you're bleeding all over the place man."

"I'm okay," Greg whispered lightly, reaching up to wipe the warm blood from his forehead.

Sara reached out to him again, and this time Greg allowed himself to lean against her, following her towards the break room that was just at the end of the hall. He was thankful no one else was in there; he wouldn't be able to stand the stares, or answer the questions. Although he knew that Sara would try to get it out of him herself.

"What happened?" Sara asked, not missing a beat as he lowered himself on the couch. She knelt down in front of him, holding onto his hands gently. Greg made no move to pull away, only sat there quietly, his mind racing with the past events.

How could he explain all of this? He didn't want to, necessarily, but he knew he would have to eventually. The sooner he filed a report, the better off things would be. Still, he couldn't bring himself to talk.

The entire walk back to the lab had been long, and painful. Still, he had little choice in the matter; the others had taken off with his wallet, and his phone. It hadn't mattered how many times he had told them that there was no more money, they hadn't believed him.

He had fought against them, but the odds were out of his favor. There were three of them, and only one of him. Even though they were armed, Greg hadn't given in so easily. He had cursed himself plenty of times for not trying to get away earlier. Why had he waited so long to do something?

"Greg?"

Greg opened his eyes to meet the worried gaze of Sara's; she was watching him intently, studying his features. Slowly he tightened his grip on hers, pulling her closer, if only a little. "Promise me you'll be careful," Greg whispered, not willing to try to talk any louder. His throat hurt enough already, he didn't want to do more than was necessary.

Sara's eyes narrowed, somewhat shocked at his request. "Greg, what are you talking about?"

"Just promise," he pleaded, his grasp still tight on her hands. "Please."

Sara nodded after a moment, confusion still spread across her face. "You have to tell me what happened, who did this to you?"

Greg shook his head, letting go of her hands as he leaned back against the couch. "I can't…"

"You can't," Sara wondered, angered at his response, "or wont?"

Greg opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off as the door opened. Nick pushed his way through, followed by a paramedic. Nick nodded to the two of them, and Sara moved to her feet, meeting the Texan in the doorway as the younger man moved over to where Greg sat, already asking him questions.

"You find out what happened?" Nick asked her quietly, surprised when she shook her head.

"He won't talk," Sara sighed, brushing back her wet hair once more.

Nick nodded, "We'll check him over thoroughly, bag his clothes. Find out what we can. If he won't talk then the evidence will have to do the talking for him."

"I don't understand though," Sara muttered lightly. "This isn't like Greg, he's never been this quiet before."

"He's been through a lot Sar," Nick prompted lightly. "Let him figure things out first before you start judging him."

There was a stretch of silence as she watched them, the medic accessing his injuries, as Nick collected his camera from the table. He raised a hand, pointing towards the door. "We'll need some privacy," he informed her.

Sara gave him a funny look before realization dawned on her. Nodding she turned around, closing the door behind her. A moment later the blinds to the windows were drawn, concealing the room.

A sickly feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, as she watched the shadows move behind the blinds. Never had they worked a case involving one of their own, but she felt even more determined to find out the reasoning behind this, figure out what had happened.

Biting her lip she started off towards the locker room, more than ready to get out of her wet clothes. She came to a stop as she rounded the corner, nearly walking into Grissom. The older man rubbed his forehead, looking first at her, then in the direction of the break room.

"I heard you found him," Grissom told her quietly, avoiding her gaze.

"He found us actually," Sara replied coldly. "I told you something was wrong."

"If it helps at all, I'm sorry," Grissom stated, looking at her this time.

Sara let out a sigh, pushing past him. "Is that what you would be telling me if he had been killed?" Sara wondered, not pausing to his comment. It was then she came to a stop, turning to face him. A look of bewilderment still covered his face, but she did nothing to take back what she had just said. "I'm running this case."

It wasn't a request; Grissom hadn't supported her before, so she didn't need his support now. She bit her lip as she entered the locker room, taking a seat on the bench. Greg had asked if she wanted to come along, and she had turned him down. If she had been with him, maybe none of this would have happened. The icy pit in her stomach grew even more as the thoughts plagued her mind, Greg's words haunting her thoughts. Was this all her fault?

**TBC**


	3. In the Dark

**Chapter Three: In the Dark**

"_Do you want anything?"_

"_No…"_

"_Are you sure? I can stay here if you want."_

"_I just want to be left alone…"_

Thinking it over now Greg wished he could have taken it back. He didn't want to be alone any more than he wanted to be here. His mind was racing, but he felt empty inside, a bitter taste in his mouth as he eased himself down on his bed. He was exhausted, but Greg wasn't sure if he could even sleep.

Slowly he laid down on the bed, his head resting on the pillow, not even bothering to change. Nick had taken his clothes for processing, giving him a pair of orange stretch pants, as well as a shirt to wear home. They weren't very comfortable, but Greg somehow didn't have the strength to even care.

He glanced up at the clock near his bed, then to the phone. It seemingly stared at him in mockery, bidding him to call in. He knew Sara's cell by heart, he wouldn't even have to leave his bed. Biting his lip he turned away, burying his head in the pillow. Greg knew it was impossible, even if he wanted her here, he knew that it wasn't the best of ideas. Besides…Sara would only come out of pity. Pity…it was the last thing he needed.

He felt himself relax, even as miserable as he felt. He tried to clear his mind, urged himself to let go…it was over, he was home, and he was safe…as safe as he could be…right?

* * *

"What did you get?"

Nick didn't look up from the microscope, instead he concentrated on focusing it. "Some fingernail scrapings, looks like Greg may have gotten a piece of our guy. Since he's been at work before hand we can assume it's recent. He would have been wearing gloves while here."

Sara nodded, glancing over his shoulder. "Did he say anything though?"

Nick shook his head, pulling back so Sara could take a look. "Not a word. I didn't think it was even possible for Greg to be that quiet…it's some sort of hair, not human though. Does Greg own any pets?"

"Fish?" Sara suggested, a wry smile crossing her face.

"Well, unless fish all the sudden started growing fur, than it belongs to our guy. Did he say anything when you drove him home?"

"No," Sara shook her head sullenly, sliding out of the way as Nick moved back in. "I offered to stay with him, but he said he wanted to be alone."

"Time to think," Nick nodded, "He's probably still in a bit of shock. It's common. More in likely he's angry at himself. Once he gets some rest, and time to sort things out, he'll be like his old self again."

She only nodded, somewhat lost in thought. Clearing her throat she spoke up, but kept her voice low so that the words only passed between them. "You did…a thorough process…right?"

Nick looked up at her, confusion crossing his face, "What…?"

"There were no traces…"

"No," he shook his head quickly, "no. No one touched him."

He heard her let out a sigh, and knew how she felt. He had been afraid as well, of the possibility of his friend being raped. It would explain Greg's quiet demeanor, and unwillingness to talk. Therefore he felt beyond relieved when there were no visual signs. Still it worried him, there had to be some explanation to why he wouldn't talk.

* * *

"So, what do we do with him Crow?"

Greg heaved heavily, trying to draw in shaky breath. His stomach was on fire, and with his head pounding he felt more than sick. The two older men had pinned him against the wall, denying him of any relief for his aching body.

In front of him, the teen paced, one hand still griping the knife, the other rubbing his chin. He didn't say anything, only turned to stare at him, sending a chill down Greg's spine. Never before had he felt so weak and vulnerable.

Letting out a snarl Crow turned away from him, bending over to grab the wallet that had been tossed to the ground before hand. They had searched him, turned every pocket inside out, even going as far as pulling off his shoes in order to find any spare money.

"Credit cards," he mused quietly, pulling out the only three Greg had. "They'd be nice, but someone smart like you would cancel them…if you get out of here. And if you don't, with the connections you have, it wouldn't be good to carry around a record of using a dead cop's card."

"I won't say anything," Greg rasped, coughing. "Just please…take whatever you want, let me go."

He knew know why most people would offer up anything in a situation such as this. Everything could be replaced, everything that was save for his life. All he had to do was survive this, and everything would be okay.

He could hear the teen laugh, the one they had called Crow. Greg could only assume that was a code name…even if could somehow get this information back to the lab it more in likely wouldn't help at all.

Crow hadn't looked up at him, hadn't listened to a word he had said. Instead his focus was on the piece of leather in his hand. A smile crossed his face as he pulled a piece of paper free, studying it closely.

"Here now, who is lovely lady?"

Greg let out a curse as he caught a glimpse of the picture; the same one Sara had given him at the last Christmas party. She had gone out that year, getting professional photos done for her annual Christmas Cards. It had been years since her last one, and Greg couldn't believe how much she had grown.

The picture in front had been removable, one he took care to do so quickly, replacing it with the one that used to be in his wallet. This one was different, however. She had a sly smile on her face, when she whispered in his ear to look on the back. It was the only one she had written her address on, despite the fact that Greg already knew where she lived.

This simple fact worried him, and he watched with growing concern as Crow flipped it over. "Could be a sister," he laughed, "but I don't see any resemblance. A good friend perhaps?"

"You leave her out of this," Greg warned, moving forward. The only thing that kept him from tackling the teen was the two men. He calmed himself down, knowing full well that there was no way he could fight all three of them at once. He'd be lucky to even take one of them.

He was never a fighter in school; for a long time his father wanted to put him through boxing lessons. Partially he was ashamed of Greg's stature; his son was more concerned with science than anything. Were most kids were going out for sports, Greg busied himself with books, and lessons.

If his father were to have his own way, Greg would have gone through them as well. His mother however convinced his father to let him be. At any rate, he was desperately wishing that his father had won the argument. Any experience at all would come in handy at the moment.

"Perhaps we will," Crow laughed, as well as the other two men. "Depends on how loyal you are…"

Greg furrowed his brow, watching him. "What do you mean?" His heart was racing again, and he was beginning to feel sick.

"We'll take care of this," he nodded, slipping the wallet in his coat pocket, "You do whatever you want; Cancel your cards, talk to your friends, turn us in even. Just keep in mind we know where you live…and most importantly, we know where your little friend lives." He tapped the top of his jacket.

"Don't," Greg pleaded, "don't hurt her. Just leave her alone."

Crow ignored his pleading, turning to the men that held him there. "Make sure he doesn't see a thing."

Greg sat up quickly, fumbling in the dark for his lamp. His heart was racing, and the darkness only spurred on his fears. With a click, the soft glow of the light filled the room, and he let out a shaky breath. His entire body was shaking, as he pulled his feet up under his chin, wrapping his arms around his knees.

They had threatened her, not him…he could hear Crow talking even as the larger of the two dragged him further back into the alleyway, further into the darkness. There was no way they would go after him, it was too risky, going to the door of cop friend. But Sara…they had no way of knowing she was a fellow CSI, and being a woman alone gave them a sense of ease. She would be easy to take…and when she didn't expect anything…

Greg let out a bitter sob, biting his lip. Now was not the time to lose it. His eyes fell on the clock, bitterly angry upon finding that he had been asleep no more than twenty minutes. What was he going to do?

Without thought he reached over, grasping his phone. Seven numbers later the phone was ringing, the receiver pressed against his ear. All he needed to hear was her voice; he didn't have to say anything. It was what he did as well. As soon as she picked up, he ended the call.

It was long enough to hear her say hello, long enough for reassurance. She was still at work…she wouldn't answer her phone that quickly otherwise. A few moments later his own phone was ringing, he knew it was Sara. Cursing himself he turned away, trying to ignore the shrill ringing. Sara knew it was him, her caller ID would tell her if she didn't guess on her own.

Greg knew it would only worry her if he didn't answer, but he wasn't up to talking yet either. Sara would somehow find a way in, get what he didn't want to tell out of him. He couldn't…why didn't she understand that? It was then he knew…then he figured it out.

The only way to keep her safe was to keep her close. Without another thought, he reached over and picked the phone up in one smooth motion.

TBC


	4. Moving On

**Chapter Four: Moving On**

"Does it hurt?"

Greg reached up tentatively, circling the bruise that lined his eye. Most of it had faded now, but a cut still remained, on it's way to healing. Flinching he drew his hand back, turning away from her as he answered.

"It's okay," he breathed. He knew that if Sara had been looking into his eyes she would have caught him in the white lie. She had been worried about him since that night, and though it bothered him he would say nothing. It was only because she cared, and he reminded this point to himself several times in order to keep from yelling out.

Nick had questioned him a few times, each response was the same. He couldn't say who, couldn't tell them what had happened. Greg knew they had DNA on one of the suspects, but no matches came up. They couldn't do anything more until they got a sample to compare it too.

Greg had also been sure to change his story constantly, refusing to answer how many, or where it had taken place. If he was to keep Sara safe as his plan was, then it would serve him well to make things as confusing as possible. Eventually everything was dropped, the case closed due to insufficient evidence. That still wasn't enough to satisfy him, and he went out of his way to spend time with Sara.

It was hard, trying to keep his calm whenever he was with her. More than anything he wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her close, keep her safe. But Sara was only a concerned friend, how would she react to his sudden…intimacy? The last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

"Our victim was killed shortly after midnight," Sara mused, her attention back on the case. Taking the moment of distraction Greg popped another grape in his mouth, fishing in from the bowl that sat in the middle of the table. Sara eyed him for a moment, shaking her head as he tossed a second one, catching it with his mouth.

"Doesn't leave a whole lot of time for Benny boy to get to the hotel," Greg pointed out, grinning upon seeing her reaction.

Sara grabbed a grape of her own, amused that even though she had brought them in, Greg had proceeded to eat nearly the entire bunch. It didn't bother her, there was plenty more at home and she did invite him to have some.

"So obviously he can't be our guy."

"Unless he paid the killer, or was an accomplice."

A grape bounced off her forehead, landing on the papers below before rolling into her lap. She glanced up sternly, but failed to keep that composure once seeing his wide grin, his cheeks already flushed from silent laughing.

"You were um, supposed to catch that," Greg muttered in between laughs.

"You missed," she responded dryly, despite the smile that crossed her face as she grasped the small fruit between her thumb and forefinger. She could hear him laughing even as she popped it in her mouth. He was enjoying this far more than he should.

"Trying to share," Greg muttered lightly, supporting his head in his hand. Sara smiled, but said little more on the matter as she began to read off other possibilities. Greg scooped another handful out, disappointed when he realized they were getting down the last few.

He paid only vague attention to what she was saying, he already knew the suspects, the locations, the evidence that was found. They were at a dead end, and he could only stretch his mind so far. Grinning he grasped another grape, closing one eye as he pretended to aim.

"Don't you dare," she warned, even without looking up. She hardly missed a beat in retelling the already known evidence, but it was clear she had an eye on him. Pouting only slightly he tossed the fruit in his mouth instead, rolling it on his tongue.

"Maybe we're trying to be too logical," Sara said suddenly. "He admitted to being over there, but that was hours before she died. He has an alibi for TOD, and she was drinking…what if it was accidental?"

"A hole that big in her skull, accidental?" Greg shook his head, tossing another grape into his mouth. "Someone took something to her head."

"And whatever it was is now gone," she added quietly. "So we're back to a dead in. Someone was in that room, but we have no idea who."

Reaching into the bowl she scoffed, finding it empty. "You ate the last grape?"

Greg shrugged, his hands now clasped together as he rested his chin on them. "I offered to share," he said simply.

Her response was a frown, Greg raising his eyebrows in attempt to look innocent, all with little success. With a sigh she placed the folder on the table, sitting up in her chair. "Why don't we take a break, obviously we're both hungry, and not getting anywhere."

She stressed the point about not getting anywhere, standing swiftly. Greg called out to her as she passed, suggesting a dinner date. For half a moment he thought it had worked, Sara turning back to him, studying him. Finally she smiled, not a warm one, but more of a pitying type.

"I'm already meeting someone…"

"You made a date that fast?" Greg joked, testing her.

"We were going to meet in ten minutes anyways, I'll just be early, that's all."

"Oh…" his tone had dropped as he turned away.

"You can come if you want, I'm sure he won't mind," she started, but Greg was already shaking his head.

"I'll just catch up with guys," he nodded down the hall, knowing in the back of his mind that they were around.

Sara was still smiling, "You sure?"

Was he sure? Of course not, but he didn't want to be hanging over anyone, the last thing he needed to be was a burden. He forced a smile, urging her to go on. She did after a few prolonged seconds, leaving him there in the room.

Letting out a sigh he collected the paperwork she had left behind. Honestly he felt terrible, and it wasn't just the grief his wound was giving him. He should be grateful, Sara was happy, or seemed that way at least. So what if they weren't dating, so what if she didn't want to date him…

The realization hurt more than he thought at first, but he pushed it aside, working his way to the computer room. It was something that had been lingering in the back of his mind, but he hadn't the strength to find it before. There was something about this case that bothered him…and he was bound determined to find it.

**TBC**


	5. Sleeping Over

**Chapter Five: Sleep Over**

Greg woke up abruptly, his chest heaving as he tried to draw in a full breath of air. With his body entangled in the sheets it only made the predicament worse as he worked to free himself, one hand reaching for the alarm clock. He only succeeded in knocking it over, a curse brushing past his lips as he grappled with the cord, pulling the device back onto his bed.

It wasn't even noon yet; he had been sleeping little over an hour. His heart was still racing in his chest as he relaxed back into the pillows, trying to ease his fitful breaths. None of this was new, the sleepless days, the endless nightmares…they had been occurring since that night. Greg knew he couldn't put up with it much longer, he was becoming too tired. Finally he gave in, picking up a sleeping aid on his way home from last night's shift.

Were they helping? He had slept longer in one span today than he had all week. Even now, though fully awake from his recent scare he felt tired…yes, they were helping. But no matter how many he took, or how often, they couldn't banish his fears. He could handle this for the most part, or so he thought. That was before this dream…this nightmare.

Without a second thought Greg reached for the phone, dialing the number he knew by heart. He didn't take into consideration the time, or the simple fact that she would be sleeping. It wasn't until she answered in a groggy voice that he felt guilty.

"Sara…I…" he began to explain, but fell silent when he realized he couldn't. He didn't know why he was calling her, or even what he wanted to say. Sara must have heard the indecision in his voice, because the drowsiness that was there before was now gone.

"What is it?"

Greg shook his head, although knowing she couldn't see him. "I just…I don't why I called, I didn't mean to wake you," he was apologizing now, ready to hang up and let her go back to sleep. Sara cut him off however, stating that she would be right over. Before Greg could disagree she had ended the call.

This was how he found himself pacing nervously back and forth in front of his door, dressed in a pair of long pants and a t-shirt, his hair ruffled from the tossing and turning he endured prior to falling asleep. It took nearly twenty minutes for the knock to come, and he was waiting.

Throwing it open he wrapped her in a hug, breathing a sigh of relief as he did so. Sara must have been stunned, because she didn't return the affection straight away, and when she did it was in an awkward sense. "I'm glad to see you too."

"Sorry…" Greg was quick to apologize, as well as pull away from her, giving her the space that she not only wanted, but often demanded.

"What's bothering you?" She would let it pass, knowing him well enough that he wouldn't just cross boundaries unless there was a real reason. It was obvious he was nervous, as he turned on his heel, wandering into the kitchen. Shutting the door she followed, pulling her coat around her.

She hadn't wasted much time, not even bothering to change, but slipping into her shoes and a coat as she headed out. Greg had sounded stressed on the phone, upset almost. Sara could only wonder vaguely what it was.

She found him in the kitchen; elbows on the counter as tapped the surface lightly, staring at the wall in a trance. Placing her purse on the counter she waited, knowing he would talk when he could.

Several minutes passed of uncomfortable silence, and yet she made no move to say anything. Finally Greg moved, rubbing the back of his neck as he let out a nervous chuckle. "I shouldn't have called you," he started to apologize.

"Talk to me," she prodded, interrupting him. Greg was already shaking his head, but she wouldn't let up that easy. She had not driven halfway across town to be turned away. "Talk…"

"It's nothing really," he admitted, thumbs twitching nervously. "Kind of silly…"

"If it's bothering you this much it's nothing silly," she reassured him. Her worry was growing by the minute.

"It's a dream I had…" Greg admitted, feeling more than childish now, his cheeks burning with faint embarrassment. None of it had been real, normally he could let all of it pass by, but for some reasons he couldn't get the image out of his head. He expected Sara to say much of the same, expected her to laugh, smile even.

It surprised him when she urged him to continue, serious as he was. She waited patiently as he drew in a breath, trying to form an explanation in his mind. "Of that night…"

Again she nodded, but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt him. Greg turned away as the dream came back, trying his best to fight off the gruesome memories. "I was walking to the Deli…just like that night…but this time you were with me…"

"When the…when they grabbed us, I tried to do something. You were crying, all of them, they were all over you…touching and…" his voice broke here, bringing his hand up to cover his face. "I couldn't do anything…just watch. You were calling me, begging for help and I couldn't."

Sara felt her skin crawl listening to this, watching as the man before her began to cry. Nightmares were often all too real, she had plenty of her own, but never had they been about someone she cared about.

"When…when they were finished…they had a knife. I tried Sara…you have to believe me, I tried to help…"

Greg hadn't even been aware that he had been crying, lost in the terrifying memories, ones that he couldn't separate from the real world. The hand on his cheek startled him, and he pulled back to find himself looking into Sara's eyes.

Her voice was firm and gaze steady. "It's just a dream; it's not going to happen."

He nodded dully as she pulled him into an embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. Greg already knew that it was just a dream, but the fear was something he could not dismiss. Just because it hadn't happened then didn't mean that it would not. The simple thought terrified him more than he could ever imagine.

"You want me to stay?"

Greg forced a laugh as he pulled away. "I'll be okay," he nodded, drying his face with the back of his hand. "I'm sure you have other plans that don't involve babysitting me…"

"Sleeping?" Sara offered up a laugh and it faded into a smile. "I can do that here too. Tell you what, why don't settle down on the couch, watch a movie or two, just talk. We haven't done that in a long while now, have we?"

Greg shook his head, but made no attempt to move. He was still somewhat stunned, hanging in an uneasy balance. It was Sara who guided him over the furniture, and her as well that turned the television on. There wasn't much on at this time of day, and she left it on a music channel, the sound turned down on low.

It was her as well that guided the conversation, doing her best to keep the man's mind occupied. Greg was thankful, even if it was barely working. Sometime during the hour he found himself falling into the conversation, laughing along with Sara at several things that should have not been funny in the first place.

As the hour came to an end, Greg found himself stretched out along the couch, Sara resting against him. She was still talking, but it was also clear she was very tired, her eyelids continually drifting close before popping back open.

"How was your dinner date last night?" he wondered. They were running out things to talk about, and despite how much he knew Sara wanted sleep, he didn't want to be left alone. He knew that was selfish of him, but knowing she was here, hearing her voice was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment.

"Dinner date?"

Greg nodded, "You said you were meeting someone…"

She laughed, a soft giggle that turned into a yawn. "I wouldn't really call it a date. It was okay, nothing fancy."

"New boyfriend?" He hadn't wanted to ask the question, afraid of the answer, but curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Not really," she shook her head. "Just some guy I met a few days back, he was lost, so I helped him out. He wanted to thank me."

"What, a card wasn't enough?"

Sara smiled, opening her eyes as she glanced up at him. "It would have gone better if you came along."

"Maybe, but three's a crowd. I didn't want to be a bother."

She reached up, wrapping her arm around his that rested over her waist. "You wouldn't have been."

She fell asleep there, her last words lingering on his mind. Her soft breaths were enough reassurance that everything would be okay, but even as tired as he was Greg could not find sleep.

**TBC**


	6. Reliving Fears

**Just a quick thanks to all my wonderful readers. I enjoy reading what you guys have to say, and it also gives me motivation to keep on writing. :D**

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**Chapter Six: Reliving Fears**

Nick shrugged his shoulders as the brunette watched him, obviously waiting for an answer. "Without something to compare it to, I can't really give you anything."

"There has to be more than that," Sara disagreed, checking the results herself. "He knows more than he's letting on, I just don't know why."

"I can tell you there were at least two suspects; Greg got a piece of them both. Bruising shows that whoever hit him is right handed…upward strike, suggesting the person was shorter than he was…but that doesn't help much. For all we know he could have been on the ground as opposed to standing."

Sara nodded, her thoughts solemn. Nick had taken over with running the case, as much as she had disagreed. "It's common for most people in the heat of the moment to loose perception, memory. Maybe if we just give him something to work with it'll come back to him."

"We could try," Nick nodded. "I don't want to press him; he seems uncomfortable enough about the situation. He was really jumpy the first few nights."

"He's had nightmares," Sara stated softly, ignoring the look of surprise her friend gave her. "This isn't going to stop until we find them. And with each passing day they could be getting further and further away. We can't wait."

"If they're creatures of habit they'll stick around."

"If," she muttered under her breath, looking up as a form occupied the doorway.

"I am a genius," Greg declared, a grin spread across his face.

"Enlighten us," Sara challenged, only Nick remained silent as the level one CSI began rambling off on his findings.

His grin only ended up widening as he waltzed into the room, taking his own seat at the end of the table. "There were six missed calls on our vic's cell phone, two of which came from Benjamin's cell; the first came 43 minutes after TOD and the second, four hours later. Bar tender can verify that he was there during those times, and remembers the suspect using the phone. The other four calls, came in at five minute intervals starting ten minutes after her death. Archie was able to trace the number back to a phone booth about a block away. I've already gone out and collected prints, came up with not only a hit, but our vic had a restraining order against the guy."

Sara blinked. "You went out to a crime scene alone?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Chill, I went with Brass. He's bringing our guy in now as we speak."

Sara nodded, a smile crossing her lips in approval. "Good job…how come you didn't come to me though?"

"It was just a hunch," Greg shrugged, "it's like you said, you find something, run with it."

"That's right," she agreed, although she knew that she had heard that first from Grissom. It was Nick who spoke up next, clearing his voice as he changed the direction the conversation was headed.

"I need to ask you a few questions about the other night."

The smile had that seemed to be ever painted on his face vanished quickly as the young man took on a more serious attitude. He sat up in the chair, as if listening intently to what the Texan had to say.

"We have some leads, but we need you to fill in the blanks. We need anything you can tell us…anything you can remember. Something you saw, that you smelt maybe…heard."

Greg shook his head, muttering vaguely that he didn't know. Nick let out a sigh as Sara shot him a concerned look. "Greg…"

"You know what, I think Brass may be waiting for me, I should get going."

Nick held his hands up in the air as somber man left the room nearly as quickly as he had entered. It was Sara who went after him. Greg had made his way to the DNA lab, opposed to interrogation room if he was indeed meeting up with Brass. The room was empty, given Sara ample time to discuss it with him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Sara came to a stop, barely inside the door. She hadn't even said a word, but apparently Greg was ahead of her. He was pacing back in forth in an anxious manner, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Where is she?"

"Since when do you need Mia to run your samples?" Sara kidded lightly, watching him. He was uneasy, and it scared her. The last time he had been like this was that night she stayed with him.

"I need an update on the results, and I can't get them if she isn't here."

"It's okay to be scared Greg."

He shook his head, muttering again. "I'm not scared…you just don't understand."

"Then make me."

Greg looked at her, speechless now. He had gotten himself into a hole, one he was desperately seeking a way out of. He leaned against the table, hands holding onto a chair. "I can't."

"Why?"

Greg tilted his head, considering the question. Then he let out a sigh. "I looked right into their eyes, I listened to them, heard all their threats…and I don't remember." He lifted his eyes, hopeful that his lie had convinced her. "What kind of investigator does that make me?"

She smiled, nudging him in the shoulder a little. "Human."

Greg let out a fake smile, turning away. He wasn't certain how long the façade would last, but hopefully long enough. Her smile became more serious as she watched him. "Anything would help, anything at all."

"If I remember," Greg responded.

They both glanced up as Warrick stuck his head in the doorway. "Someone's here to see you, he's waiting out in the lobby."

She nodded, waving a small thanks as the other man continued on. Turning back to Greg she studied him for a moment. "It must be Rick, he's early though."

"I thought you weren't seeing him anymore," Greg mused quietly, grateful to grasp a different situation for a while.

"I'm not," Sara smiled back at him, even as she headed out of the room. Greg shook his head, still somewhat disappointed in the fact she had found someone. At least she was happy, that much was obvious. She had talked so mildly about him that first night, and though she had said little about him in the past few days Greg knew there was something different about her.

He let out a sigh, laughing at himself as he took a good look around. He had no real idea what he was doing here. There was nothing for him, nothing running through DNA at the moment. Greg collected the strewn files, making headway to the interrogation room. It was empty which was no real surprise. Brass had radioed ahead to inform the lab he wouldn't be in until another half hour.

He decided to head towards the break room, longing for a soda. What he actually craved was a beer, but he also knew there was no way Grissom would allow something like that to go on inside the lab, and certainly not on company hours. He traded hands with the folders, wishing now he had left them in the DNA lab. There was no real need to carry them around, and Mia would have just pushed them off to the side until he went back later to get them.

Coming inside the door he came to a stop, gaping almost as he met eye to eye with the stranger inside. He seemed to fit almost perfectly, dressed well and clean shaven, his hair brushed to one side, a visitor's pass clipped to his shirt. The sight made his skin crawl, and even with the differences Greg could never forget a face. It was one of the guys from the alleyway.

**TBC**


	7. A Cruel Game

**Chapter Seven: A Cruel Game**

There was a flicker of fear that he felt, but only at first as it died away quickly. It was, however, replaced by anticipation, as he stood there, mouth agape, staring at the very same man that had helped in mugging him. Surely there was some kind of mistake, he tried to reason. After all, why would the same man accused of pounding a cop wander straight into their very hold?

The man was watching him with a bit of a smirk, his eyebrows raised. "I see you're still among the living," he joked with an added grin. "Guess we didn't get you too bad."

There was no mistake, it was the same man. Greg swallowed as he came up with a blatant response. "What are you doing here?"

It was a slightly sickening feeling, knowing that the very man that had hurt you and plagued your dreams with threats had very easily been accepted as a respected member by your friends. Greg wanted little more than to tear the visitor's pass away, kick the man out the building. At the same time a plan formed in his head, he was easy prey, outnumbered even. But would everyone believe him if he now told the truth? After a week of lying through his teeth, pretending he didn't know, would they even listen? Or conclude that he was just insane?

"I'm here to see my girl."

The response confused Greg, who once continued to stare at him with an open mouth. If the man didn't think he was crazy before, he would now. Greg processed the words over in his head, an icy grip forming around his quickening heart. Surely he didn't mean…

"You stay away from her," he hissed, doing well to keep his voice low.

"How else are we supposed to keep tabs on you?"

Greg felt like an idiot, cursing himself mentally for not figuring it out sooner. The same man Sara hadn't really cared for after the first night continuing to hang around, shortly after the taunting threats Greg had received. They had her address, her phone number; of course they would make contact, instead of just trusting a stranger's word.

"I'll tell them," Greg warned, hoping that it would work. He wondered if he could muster up the courage to even try, but it was a second later that all his hopes were dashed.

"Go ahead," the other man nodded, urging him to do so, maybe a little too much. "If you feel confident enough that your cop friends can catch all of us in time."

He seemed pleased at the way Greg fell silent, satisfied with himself. He didn't stop there though, continuing on where he left off. The man was enjoying himself. "She's a very nice gal, caring, generous, a real nice kisser too."

Greg felt his stomach churn as he shook his head. "What?" The prospect of Sara kissing him was far too much. She wouldn't actually try something like that…would she? After all, they had known each other for years, why would she go off and kiss a man she had only known for a few short days?

With the grin the man wore on his face Greg wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, and he quickly shook the disgust off. "You leave her out of this. She hasn't done anything."

"True," the man nodded, "She's just a pawn, but a lovely one at that. It'd be a shame if something happened to her."

Greg took another step despite the growing fear and repulsion he was feeling towards him. "I haven't told anyone, if you want it to stay that way I suggest you leave, and soon."

"You're in no position to offer up a bargain," the man reminded him, not backing down from the fierce gaze. "You were easy enough to take up in the alley, it can happen again."

"The only difference is that you're outnumbered," Greg warned.

"Now, but where are the others? When will they show up at your place, at Sara's? We have the element of surprise, are your cop friends going to watch the two of you all the time, wherever you go? Who knows, we may get you while you're a work, or sleeping during the day. Do you really want to take that chance?"

For the first time Greg was being able to see the real dilemma unfold. It was annoyingly unfair, and terribly sickening at the same time. There was no real way he could win. If he remained quiet he would have to rely on the word of thieves and potential murders. If he asked for help, he would have to suffer the consequences. Without having the upper-hand Greg didn't trust taking any chances. He would have to play by their game, until he found out what the rules were.

Any further conversation was interrupted as the doors swung open. Seeing Sara come in a mixture of hope and fear flickered across his face before it was quickly replaced by a hard mask of determination. The man stood across from, trying to provoke him into saying something.

"I see you've met Rick," Sara replied surprisingly. Apparently she had intention of introducing the pair; Greg mulled deeply over the small fact, biting his bottom lip as his eyes narrowed, watching as the pair exchanged a warm hug.

He was touching her, holding her close with a wry grin flashed in his direction. Rick was playing, adding more emphasis on everything just for show, to get under his skin. Greg got the uneasy feeling that the man was trying to get him to speak up. Rick was testing him, but why Greg didn't know.

"We've met," Greg replied bitterly, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the still healing bruise. It was just a faint outline now, but it hurt more than it should. And staring at the man only added insult to injury.

"He's been so sweet, a real gentleman," Sara told Greg with a little bit of a laugh, still holding onto on of his hands.

If Greg had been cold-blooded then he certainly would have died there on the spot as his blood began to boil. He was somewhat surprised that he was able to retain a passive expression, let alone his urging to smash the guy in the face. "I suppose he is," he replied tensely.

"She talks about you a lot," Rick added, wrapping an arm around her frame to pull her closer to his torso. The action only added fuel to fire. "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking her out."

Did he really expect an answer? Greg continued to chew on his bottom lip as he glanced from him to Sara. A grin was plaster across his face as he turned towards the woman in his arms, planting a deliberate kiss right in front of his eyes.

Greg couldn't take it any longer, couldn't stand seeing what he was doing, and enjoying the fact that he was dong it. If Greg could have had his way he would beaten the man to bloody pulp, despite the fact he didn't indulge in violence. Instead he did the only reasonable thing. He left the room.

Greg wasn't sure what had prompted that action, other than fear. At the current moment his anger was overriding his thoughts, but he knew in the end that any course of action in that manner would only place Sara further in danger. No one would believe him at that rate if he took a swing at him. Ecklie would have him suspended, fired perhaps, and Sara…she would be angry with him for hurting an 'innocent man'. He was quickly becoming to regret his actions earlier.

"Greg?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, surprised she had followed. Then again why wouldn't she? She was still a friend, and if she knew what was happening she would understand then. They were using her, as a sick cruel joke and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Are you okay?"

Was he okay? Greg shook his glumly, standing just inside the locker room. He could see Rick standing just down the hall, watching him intently. The ex-lab tech wondered if the villain could read lips, wondered if it was worth a try. A steady glare told him that it wasn't the best of ideas.

"I'm fine."

Sara touched his arm gingerly, as if afraid to hurt him. Greg didn't pull away, but didn't take comfort in her concern either. "I know," she told him quietly.

"It's different, but he really is a nice guy. You'd like him if you gave him a chance."

Greg shook his head bitterly, "Somehow I don't think I will."

He was taken by surprise when she reached up, planting a small kiss on his cheek. "I think it's cute that you're jealous," she whispered in his ear.

Greg hadn't met her eyes, watching Rick as he lingered in the hall. The other man was watching intently for any signs. Greg supposed he could let something slip out easily, but when he met her level gaze he knew that he couldn't. Not until he figured things out.

"I'll check on you later, okay?" Sara told him earnestly, studying his face.

"Whatever," Greg's reply was bitter as she left, his heart aching as he watched her go. He felt so helpless it was unfair; it was a game he could not win. The frustration was swarming as he turned away, slamming a closed fist against the locker in front of him. A wave of pain sailed through his battered knuckles, up the length of his arm as he sank down on the bench, cringing.

As the broken skin began to bleed Greg found himself weeping bitterly, not over pain that was attacking his crushed hand, but over a different type of pain, one that he could not heal by himself.

**TBC**


	8. One Word

**Chapter Eight: One Word**

He was home now, a place where he should have felt safe, protected, confident that he was out of harms way. This wasn't the case, not this time; Greg had never been more agitated. The CSI had spent a rough average of ten minutes in the locker room before he was noticed, or more so the blood that covered not only the floor, but him as well.

Greg barely noticed the pain, his quiet excuse was that it was an accident, and he hadn't even noticed it. Nick had barely believed him, but had promised to keep quiet about it once Greg had confessed to losing his anger. He knew the Texan was only watching out for him, the man had been a friend for so long that Greg felt guilty in not confiding in him. It was a risk he couldn't take, not until he got his head on straight.

He could work through this; at least that was what he kept repeating in his mind. Driving home he had half a mind of swinging by her place, and nearly had. She wouldn't be there, but at least he could wait until she did return. But after thinking it over Greg realized that the tables had turned on him once again.

Sara still had a second shift to work through, and once learning that Greg had been sent home early, she would more in likely stop by his place to check in on him. It was how he ended up here, sitting nervously in the dark, cell phone clutched in one hand, his cordless house phone in the other.

He could call; he knew her number by heart. But what would come of it? Sara would worry, Nick would worry, and they would force him to tell, and Sara would then be in danger…and it would all be his fault. All of it…the bitter taste returned to his mouth as he shifted, stretching out a little more. If he was going to wait he may as well be comfortable.

His hand hurt some, now that time had passed and the heated feelings had left. The burning jealously had gone only to be replaced by raging anger that faded away to a bitter illness he couldn't shake. Greg crossed his arms over his chest, still holding both the phones as he rested there, resisting the urge to check the clock. It would only be five minutes later than the last time he had checked.

Maybe he should go back in, catch up with Sara before she left. It certainly would give him something to do, rather than just sit here in the darkness by himself. Then again the first time Nick caught him in he would be sent straight back home.

When the knock came on his door he was surprised, a frown creasing his face as he got up slowly. It was even more surprising to find that it was Sara at the door. He had been expecting a call, mostly because it was too early for her to be off work just yet. Raising an eyebrow he leaned against the frame as the door swung open, relief flowing through him at the knowledge she was okay.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard you went home early," she told him with a bit of a worried smile. "Wanted to make sure you were feeling okay…you know, after everything."

Greg nodded grimly. Yes he remembered, how could he forget? "It's a bit early for you," he pointed out.

"I'm on my break," she explained.

"Exactly how many breaks do you have in a day?"

"I'm a level three Greg," Sara laughed briefly as pushed her way in. "You keep forgetting that."

Rolling his eyes he shut the door, following her into the room. Sara made herself comfortable on the couch, pushing aside the two phones. "Expecting someone to call?"

"I was hoping to hear from you," Greg admitted as he sat down next to her.

"Really?"

He was blushing now, even as he turned away, trying to come up with an answer. It was then she noticed the bandage, indicating to his hand. "What happened?"

"It was an accident," Greg shrugged it off.

"Strange…Nick didn't say anything about you getting hurt, just that you left early…"

"Sara?" Greg cut her off, anything to steer away from the current conversation. "Will you marry me?"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence, her mouth hanging open. Greg held his hands up in apology, clearing his throat as he corrected himself.

"Sorry…that one may have been too far. Would you go out with me?"

She laughed, shaking her head as processed his words. "Go out…like a date?"

Greg shrugged, unable to come up with a vocal response as he looked away, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. So this wasn't going exactly as planned…then again he didn't have anything planned.

"I would love to."

He looked up quickly, meeting her gaze with surprise. "Really?"

"A date sounds like a nice idea."

"What about that guy?" Greg asked suddenly. He had that bone crunching feeling again, sinking to the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to hear what she had to say, but at the same time he had to know.

"It's nothing," Sara convinced him. "He's an okay guy, but I don't know…something's just not there. We're going to just be friends."

"You weren't kissing like friends," Greg reminded her, the feelings of bitter hatred returning. The simple thought that he would do that against her will upset him.

"It was only the second time," Sara nodded towards him. "And I also told him that if he tried it again he'd be sorry."

"Sorry how?"

She smiled, even as she stood. "I'll leave you to think up that one. I need to be getting back, before anyone notices I'm gone."

"I thought you were on break."

Her only response was a smile as she leaned over, planting a small kiss on his forehead. But even before pulling away she paused, moving lower to capture his lips. Greg wasn't sure if he should be thrilled or startled, ending up settling for somewhere in the middle as she pulled away, watching dumbfounded as she gave a small wave, leaving the room.

The moisture still rested on his lips as his fingers touched them gingerly, his eyes trailing to where she had been standing just a moment ago. Everything seemed too real, too perfect to have actually happened. Had he just asked Sara out? And even more importantly, had she actually said yes?

Greg let out a silent yes, throwing both hands in the air as he let himself fall back onto the couch, a slight groan escaping his lips as his head came in contact with one on the phones. Obviously it hadn't been the best idea to leave them there. Rubbing his head tenderly he closed his eyes, the last scene replaying over and over in his head as what could very well be the most wonderful moment in his life.

**TBC**


	9. Unnerving Truths

**Chapter Nine: Unnerving Truths**

"You're late."

Greg nodded, already knowing before hand that he had been so. "I got stuck in traffic. Have you seen Sara?"

Warrick shook his head, "She's not coming in today."

This surprised him, and the shock was easily displayed on his face. "Why not?"

"Don't know, Grissom just said she's taking the day off," Warrick told him with a shrug, gathering up his car keys.

"He didn't say why?"

Warrick shrugged again, this time a little impatiently.

"When was the last time Sara took a day off willingly?" Greg asked him.

"I honestly don't know," Warrick answered with a sigh, "Look, we have five hours to clear a crime scene, and I've been waiting on you, so let's get going."

Greg nodded, scowling a little. He had planned on waking up early, but that alone had fallen through when his alarm failed to go off. By the time he woke up it was well past his usual wake up call, and had to hurry to get to the lab even at this time. Still he had reminded himself quietly that he could always talk with Sara after shift.

It had been weeks since they first started going out, and personally Greg was enjoying every moment of it. In between time at work and nights at home they had managed dinners and movies, and nightly walks along the strip. They were seeing a side of town that most others saw, save for themselves.

For the most part Sara thought his plans were ingenious, something that was appraised a little too far. But if she had really known it would have worried her. Greg spent the better part of his time alone planning the next day's activities, trying to find ways to keep busy, or more so keep her away from Rick.

He knew that her reasoning for coming in today wasn't because of health. Even if she was sick she would have come in, she always did. And if it was anything to really worry about, surely Grissom would have said why. She didn't have any close family, at least none that Greg knew of. And if Sara had previous arrangements that day, surely she would have called him.

These worrisome thoughts stayed with Greg throughout the next several hours, plaguing his mind, making everything hard to concentrate. It was clear that Warrick was fed up with him by the end of the shift, having yelled and then apologized several times in such a short time.

A few times he had even asked Greg what was wrong, but the younger man brushed it off, claiming to have not slept well, or that he was feeling a little under the weather. Warrick could probably tell that he was lying, but at that point Greg didn't care. He had already called her twice by the time they returned to the lab, leaving messages on her voice mail each time.

It was the same thing now, the endless rings, the prerecorded message. Greg let out a sigh, closing his eyes. "Sara, its Greg…give me a call, okay?"

"You're not going to get a hold of her."

Greg looked up as Nick walked into the break room, heading over to the small fridge. "Why do you say that?"

The Texan shrugged, pulling out his lunch, leftovers of lasagna from the day before. "She's at a meeting with that new friend of hers…whatever his name his."

Greg tried to fight down the rising panic. It could be any friend after all. "Rick?"

When Nick nodded the panic heightened, and Greg swallowed. "Why…?"

"She said he was meeting some client or something and he wanted Sara to come along with him."

"So she just went?" Greg asked skeptically. Even that was a little hard to believe.

"The guy doesn't really have any friends," Nick reminded him, "so she agreed. If you really have to get a hold of her she has her pager on. It was the only way Grissom let her take the day off."

"It's not that important," Greg mumbled, sitting down on the couch. "I just needed to talk with her."

"Are you feeling okay?" the Texan asked, suddenly switching gears. "You've been acting really odd lately, ever since Sara met that guy…"

His cold eyes studied the younger man, for a second he almost discarded the idea, but the itching to know grown. Then all the sudden he understood, but at the same time it was too far-fetched to believe. "That's because you've seen him before…"

Greg didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the floor before him.

"He's one of them," Nick wondered quietly, although it was more of a statement than a question.

Guilt was ever growing his stomach, making him sick as he continued to remain silent. He simply couldn't move, couldn't talk. After all this time someone had finally figured it out. Greg didn't know if he should be relieved or even more worried.

"Greg, talk to me," Nick's voice was tight as he placed the carton on the table. "Is Sara in danger?"

He swallowed, "I don't know."

"You've known all this time?" Nick asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "And you didn't say anything?"

"They were going to hurt her if I said anything," Greg shot back, trying in vain to protect himself, the choices that he had made.

"And so you thought she'd be better off not knowing? Hanging around with a potential killer? Damn Greg, I thought you were smarter than that."

There was a hint of panic in his voice, but it was masked by irritation, and Nick didn't even wait to hear an explanation. Instead he pulled out his phone, a handful of curses slipping pass his lips as he left the room. "Brass it's Nick, we have a situation."

Greg remained where he was, silent as ever. Things were out of his hands now, and as much as he wanted to he couldn't feel satisfied. He had tried to do what he felt was right, but the nagging thought made him wonder if he had made things worse.

* * *

"You didn't have to buy me dinner," Sara repeated once again. It felt as though that's all she had been saying for the last few minutes. Across from her Rick only smiled, giving her a shrug.

"We were already here, and the meeting lasted longer than I thought it would, it's the least I can do."

Sara nodded, sighing as she turned away. She hadn't honestly meant to be away from work all day, but when Rick had called her last night more or less begging, she couldn't just say no. Apparently he had been calling for days to arrange this, not wanting to go alone in a town he hardly knew. Getting a vacation day hadn't been very hard, seeing that she had several weeks stacked. Still, her timing had been questionable.

She wanted to leave already; sitting here in a beautiful restaurant, eating a fabulous meal seemed all too much like a date. Even as much as he insisted it was not. Sara still felt as though she was cheating on Greg, even if it was only in her mind.

She almost breathed a sigh of relief as her pager went off. It had been on the entire day, and yet no one had tried to even contact her. Hopefully now she would have an excuse to leave, and not seem rude in doing so. It was a flaw of hers; she could be as stuck up, and stubbornly rude as she wanted when someone ground her nerves, but if simply didn't like a person, and they had been nothing but kind…she couldn't find the effort.

"Don't get it," Rick pleaded, watching as she unhooked it from her belt loop. "It's so nice here…"

"I'm on call," she reminded him with a quick smile. "419 at the Luxor, I have to take this," she voiced, silently celebrating in her mind.

He moved to say something, but she didn't give him the chance, grabbing her small purse as she headed towards the door, breathing a sigh of relief. That had been easier than expected.

The drive over there wasn't that long, but strangely quiet, and even more so as she neared the Casino. There were no sirens, no police, no…nothing. Just people milling about as Sara felt her stomach twist into knots. Up ahead she spotted Brass' vehicle, and pulled in behind to park along the sidewalk. Maybe she had only beaten everyone, but even that was realistic. The paramedics in the very least should be here first.

Grabbing her kit from the car she stepped out into the night, walking alongside of the detective's vehicle. The passenger side window was already rolled down, strangely ready, as if he had been waiting for her. "Brass, what's going on? I got a 419 page…"

"Get in the vehicle Sidle," Brass cut her off, not even turning to look at her. Instead his eyes were focused on the rear view mirror and she turned to see what he was looking at. "Now Sara."

"What's going on?" She was feeling more and more worried with each passing moment, even as she slid into the passenger's seat.

"I'll explain on the way over," he reported quietly, pulling onto the road.

"Where?"

"You have a date planned."

* * *

It had only been twenty minutes, and it would take her at least ten to make the drive. So he shouldn't really be worrying at this minute. Still it wouldn't ease his mind, and he was jumpy as ever. Stirring his drink with a straw he glanced about the club, his eyes catching the several people he knew by sight.

Two by the doors, another by the restrooms. There was fourth across the dance floor waiting in the shadows and the fifth was somewhere behind him. Not to mention the numbers that were outside, unmarked police cars hiding within the shadows. The club was watched from all angles, anyone would be insane to try anything. Still, he would be less worried when Brass showed up with Sara.

The news had spread quickly, and action was taken shortly after. It wasn't a surprise that everyone was upset at him. He should have said something earlier, he should have filed a report, should have at least told Sara…everything he should have done, but hadn't.

Greg let out a sigh as he turned back around, stabbing the ice chips with his straw. He was too upset to even try and drink, far too worried, nervous. What if this didn't work, what if something happened, that if he or Sara, or someone else were hurt?

He had disagreed to this idea from the start. Grissom had assumed they were following Sara and possibly Greg with tracking devices. This was the sole reasoning for switching cars at a falsified crime scene. Her vehicle would then be driven back to the crime scene; once they were certain no one was following them.

Once both he and Sara were secure here, they would move in on their last known locations. Nick had been able to pull rap sheets up on all of them, shortly after Greg gave detailed descriptions of them all. If one were to slip away, they would be safe. Grissom wasn't taking any chances.

He turned around, searching the crowd near the doors and was grateful to see her face, Brass shortly behind as he ushered her in. Her complexion was pale, an expression of confusion masking her face.

She took the seat next to his, leaning against the counter. The silence between them was straining, uncomfortable. Clearing his throat Greg made the move to break it first. "Sara…"

"Don't," she cut him off, holding up her hand. She gave her head a few shakes before dropping them in her hands.

He turned away, grimacing as he stared straight ahead. He was almost certain that he would feel better once she had arrived, but now he was feeling worse than before. Out of everyone, how could he explain it to her?

"Why?"

It was the first real word she had spoken to him, and he turned to meet her gaze.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was afraid…"

"Of what?"

"I don't know, of losing you maybe?" Greg stuttered, shaking his head.

"Come off it Greg," she swore lightly, "you know me better than that. You know that the only real defense against these guys is getting them behind bars, not letting them wander free."

"They threatened to kill you Sara," Greg pointed out sharply, "They had you address, your phone number…what the hell was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," she scoffed, "anything but keep quiet about it. I have been making friends with someone who wouldn't think twice about killing me. All because of you, I had no idea what I was doing, and you just kept quiet about the entire thing."

"I did what I could," Greg muttered quietly, "I tried to keep you safe, kept you close to me…"

"Is that what I am?" she asked, "A prize? Everything you've said to me was a lie…"

"Sara…" Greg was shaking his head, but was never able to finish his statement as the building was filled with sudden gunfire.

**TBC**


	10. Closure

**Only one more chapter left to go. Thanks for sticking around for the ride. I love reading all of your comments. They just make my day, and inspire me to write more. So the more you review the quicker I write, it's my fuel that keeps me going. :D**

**Chapter shout-out goes to: LizzySidle** **for her entertaing reviews :)**

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* * *

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**Chapter Ten: Closure**

"Steven Joysen, age 22," Brass read off the statement with a sigh, "Thought he could make a quick buck by popping off his favorite club."

"Wait a minute," Nick glanced at him sharply, "he's a member?"

"Four years now, guy went through a nasty divorce, lost everything to his ex," Brass shook his head in amazement. People confused him sometimes, astonished and outraged him at others, but mostly sickened him with their dark and cruel nature. "He fell into dept last month," Brass held his hands up, "he wanted the money."

"Well," Nick said with a sigh, glancing around at the now empty club, "thanks to his ingenious thought we now have two civilians and one officer injured. Plus whoever is after Sara and Greg now know that Greg tipped us off, which makes our job even harder."

He flipped the yellow page over, leaving a clean sheet to write on. Nick wasted no time in jotting down several more notes, "It doesn't help that one of your guys initiated the gunfire."

"They were not my guys," Brass cut him off sharply. "My boys are looking for our suspects. At any rate, Joysen had a gun. Little to say that it wasn't a real gun, but a cop sees a guy slouching in with a gun raised, they are going handle the situation."

"And you call firing down a night club handling the situation?" Nick wondered, closing the small notebook.

"Let's not get into it," Brass warned. "Grissom called from the lab, there were tracking devices on both Greg and Sara's personal vehicles, he's checking the company's as we speak."

"Tracking devices on company cars?" Nick laughed, "These guys are desperate, not stupid."

"Stupid or not, one of them has been inside the lab," Brass reminded him. "Warrick is over at Greg's place looking for anything out of the ordinary; Catherine is taking Sara's place. It'll be safer to keep the two of them were we can keep an eye on them, at least until we can find these creeps."

"And that could take, what? Months? Years maybe…that's not logical."

Brass nodded, knowing the Texan was right. "We know where they reside, place looks lived in, but there is a good chance they've fled the state already. If they are still around, we'll find them. It's only temporary, keeping Greg and Sara at the lab. A day at the most, just long enough that we can clear them to go home."

"At any rate," Nick nodded towards him, "I'm glad that I'm out here and not stuck in the lab with Sara."

Brass laughed, but if only the two men had known what had been going on at the exact moment they would have held their tongues. There was little chance that Nick could have been more right, for Sara was beyond livid.

Grissom had long ago given up any hope of understanding her, rubbing his head as she continued to rant and rave. Greg sat in the corner, on the couch unmoving. His head was buried in his hands, and if the older man had the nerve to guess, Greg was crying. But it wasn't as he thought as the young CSI lifted his head, leaning back against the couch.

It as clear he was agitated, upset, and emotionally strained, his faraway gaze a fair notion that the man was paying little to no attention to the brunette who was clearly upset. "Like hell I am staying here," she breathed crisply.

For the past hour now she had been pacing the break room, switching between voicing her own opinion and shooting insults at Greg who took everything in quietly. He knew Sara was pissed at him; in all the years he had known her she had been quite angry a few different times. This, this was beyond angry; it had in fact entered a whole new dimension of fury.

"I don't think you fully understand the situation," Grissom interrupted her, but she was quick to cut him off.

"I understand perfectly well," Sara snapped, "I understand that Greg lied, and by doing so he put me directly into danger, I understand that he continued to lie even after he knew what was really going on."

"Sara…"

Greg was surprised he even tried to speak, and regretted it soon after she turned around, near fire in her eyes. "Don't even start."

"He made a mistake Sara," Grissom caught her attention once again.

"Damn right he did," she huffed, shaking her head.

"Can you stop talking about me in third person?" Greg pleaded, "I'm sitting right here."

"If you don't like it, leave," Sara replied crisply.

"This is the break room Sara," Greg reminded her, spreading his hands out. "Everyone has free reign here."

"Then I'll leave."

Grissom shut his eyes, cursing inwardly. "Don't leave this room," he huffed lightly to Greg, already moving to follow the retreating form.

His head fell back into his hands, drawing in a deep breath. He hadn't been able to get more than a handful of words out since arriving, and the stress was mounting. Why would no one let him talk? Then again, why did anyone care? It was obvious everyone saw him as the child of the group.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that anyone would let him do on his own. Constantly watched, monitored, instructed on what to do. The field had seemed like a pleasant opportunity, and truthfully he enjoyed the work, loved it beyond what he could really say. But the position he was placed in was unfair.

Had they all forgotten that he had worked in this area for years? Sure, DNA was a bit of a stretch from field work, but he had made several outings before coming a full fledged CSI. His knowledge of the equipment and procedures were outstanding…he wasn't just some wannabe fresh off the college list.

"Rough night?"

Greg nodded, rubbing his eyes with palms of his hands. He didn't have to look up to know who it was; it was strange that he found solace in someone he barely spoke with. Sofia could hardly be considered a friend, he didn't know the first thing about her, but somehow she always had the simplest advice that seemed to make sense.

"I thought I was doing the right thing…"

The warm aroma of coffee lingered in the air as she took a seat next to him. "Sometimes the right thing isn't always the easiest. Your intentions may have been for the best, but your judgment was a little askew."

"I was just so afraid," Greg admitted meekly, clasping his hands together. "I can understand now why people do certain things sometimes. If it was just me they threatened…I would be okay with that. It was Sara…I guess I forgot that she can take care of herself."

"It's always hard when a loved one is concerned."

Greg laughed sharply, shaking his head. "Maybe…but I blew that one as well. I'll be lucky if she ever talks to me again."

"Give her some time," Sofia nodded towards him, "she loves you enough, everything will work out."

Greg looked up questioningly, but she was already leaving the room. Frowning in distaste he returned to his previous state with a sigh. Even though he had created this mess it still wasn't fair that he had to be confined to this one room. A short stroll down that corridor wouldn't hurt. After all, Sara had left, disregarding orders from her supervisor. What would it hurt if he did the same?

Greg knew the answer to that. Sara wouldn't get in trouble, Grissom never held anything against her. He on the other hand would be reprimanded, hearing the infamous 'for the good of the lab' speech. Greg made a face, leaning back against the couch. All there really was left to do was wait.

* * *

"Just calm down," Grissom watched her closely, trying to impose a stern look, but it was failing.

"Don't tell me what to do," Sara warned, pacing the room angrily. "I am not going to stay here and listen to what you have to say. And there is no way in 'hell' that I am going to apologize to Greg. It's not going to happen." She shook her head with a scowl as she continued to pace the room, infuriated with the simple fact that Grissom was just sitting there, as if trying to analyze her as he did with one of his specimens.

"You're being a little unreasonable," Grissom voiced, shifting his legs to the other side of the chair.

"I'm being unreasonable?" Sara asked incredulous, turning to glare at him. "Greg lied, he lied to me, and he lied to the lab. He helped protect known criminals, potential murders. Even worse, he said nothing to me! I trusted him Grissom, and he lied."

"He did it because he cares for you," Grissom pointed out.

"Bullshit," she snapped, turning away from him. "You cannot say that he cares for me. I was stupid to even believe for a second that he did. He's just some irresponsible kid who can't get over his infatuation long enough to do anything right."

"He was afraid Sara. Intimidation is easy when the target is something you cannot protect."

She came to a stop, her arms crossed, hugging her torso tightly. "I don't care, he shouldn't have lied."

Grissom would have continued, but changed his mind as Brass came in surveying the situation. "News?"

"We have them, caught the first two along the streets around the same place Greg ran into them, and the third as he came home. They're on their way in."

"Good," Sara answered sharply. "I can go then?"

It was a rhetorical question, and she didn't wait around for the answer, simply storming out. Grissom rubbed his head as he closed his eyes. It would be another long night, with interrogations to run, paperwork to file, and explanations to prepare for Ecklie. It didn't help that one employee was pissed, and the other in a semi-state of shock. The simple thought got him to wondering, sending the supervisor off to in find the man.

Greg was still in the same place had had left him, and Grissom had to chuckle in spite of himself. He had never expected Greg to listen that well. "We have them, you can go home now."

Greg nodded, already knowing this. His gaze was fixed on the floor, his form slouched over so that his arms were resting on his knees, support most of his weight. Slowly he straightened, moving to his feet with his hands in his pockets. "I think I'm going to take a few days of vacation time…"

"You're not going to try anything, are you?"

Greg laughed, looking up at him. "This is me you're talking about Griss." Greg shook his head, letting out a solemn sigh. "No…I'm not stupid. I just need some time to think…everyone probably needs a break from me anyways."

Grissom watched him leave, a mix of sorrow and confusion settling in the older man's gut. It was clear the man was depressed, but given the circumstances that wasn't unusual. He trusted Greg's word, probably more so than anyone else's at the moment. In a strange, twisted sense he could understand what he had done, and why. Still the question plagued him, what would he have done if it had been him instead of Greg?

**TBC**


	11. Moving On II

**Chapter Eleven: Moving On**

He had gone home, crawling into bed without even changing clothes, pulling the covers over his head in vain attempt to forget all that had happened. Several hours later had found in him in much of the same position, still wide awake. Even as tired as he was, Greg knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. But staying here meant he didn't have to face the reality of the situation.

He counted his breaths, tried to blank out his mind, anything to welcome the slumber that was so close, yet at the same time seemed so far away. Yet there was another fear…the uncertainty of what his dreams would bring.

It was ridiculous; Greg reminded himself firmly that it was all over. The suspects were caught, and he knew that Grissom and the rest of the team would do everything to see a full investigation was done. This also meant that Greg would have to identify them to ensure they served their time.

The thought scared him, for the first few seconds before he cleared his head again. They couldn't hurt him…they couldn't hurt Sara. Even if they got away…would they dare to even try?

The simple thought of Sara overwhelmed Greg, reminding him of the friction he had caused between them. Sara was disgusted with him, and that was putting it lightly. Greg couldn't really blame her…everything she had said had been true. He had lied…time after time to a point that it had become easy to do so. She had trusted him with her feelings, her secrets, and he had abused that trust.

But would she ever forgive him? Perhaps…but surely there would forever be an indifference between them. Greg knew from experience that she would be sore with him for a while, but once things passed over she would let up.

For a while it had seemed real, the possibility that they could be together. Greg could still smell the lilac scent in her hair when he held her close, the soft taste of her lips when they kissed…it hurt to realize that he would no longer have that.

Greg wasn't sure when he did fall asleep, only remembering waking up to pounding headache, and an empty stomach. He honestly could not remember the last time he had eaten anything, and sprawled out on his bed he couldn't even remember if he even had something edible in his apartment.

He lay there for a time, not wanting to move from the very spot. Greg knew he would have to sooner or later, his stomach feeling as though something was being drilled into it, his mouth dry and throat scratchy. It was about as close as you could possibly be to being sick.

It was about noon when he finally rolled out of bed, one hand on his pulsating forehead as he stumbled out into the kitchen. The phone was ringing, but he chose to ignore it, heading straight for the fridge instead.

There were bits of leftovers from Chinese, a week old, a few slices of pizza from three days ago, and another container of something he didn't even want to try and figure out how long it had been sitting there. He settled for the pizza, the answering machine picking up the call as he pulled the plate out.

"Greg, its Sara…give me a call when you get this…"

He listened to the pause, knowing that she was waiting for him to pick up late. She said a quiet goodbye once it was apparent that he wasn't going too. Greg bit into the cold pizza, leaning against the counter. He knew he should call her back, but the guilt was overwhelming and instead he just took another bite. Why would Sara all of the sudden be calling him?

She called back twice more; each time Greg refusing to answer, only listening to her messages instead. It was the oddest transition. Before all he had wanted was to hear from her, to know if she would ever talk to him again or not. Now he realized he simply wasn't ready to face her. What would he say, after all the lies?

Did she honestly want to talk with him, or continue her rant from the previous day? Or was it Grissom, forcing her to make amends before allowing her to come back to work? Whatever the case, Greg did not want to find out, not just yet. Perhaps it would be better, to let her cool down before attempting to work things out.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, Greg was feeling better, at least in a physical sense. There were no more phone calls, at least not from Sara; two were solicitors, the other from Grissom, only wanting to hear from him. Greg knew that he would start a panic if didn't respond, so he took the call, however short it was.

The television droned on in the background, Greg's eyes never left the set but he wasn't really watching it. The problem with television was the simple fact he had seen most of it in real life, many of the shows mimicking forensics, murders, dying…there was enough of it going around that there was no real need for him to pretend it was happening.

The knock on the door came a surprise, and he turned only his head, as if he could see the person on the other side through pure will power. Of course he knew that wasn't the case, still he didn't move from his spot on the couch. Not even when the round of knocks sounded again.

"Greg…its Sara. Let me in, will you?"

Now he definitely didn't want to answer it. He frowned, sinking lower into the couch, turning up the volume on the TV. The only thing that would complete this circle would be a cold beer…it was a shame he didn't have any.

"I can hear you in there," Sara's voice continued, this time sounding a bit more edgy. Greg was even more convinced that it had been Grissom who had sent her. She was never this desperate to talk with him unless it involved gaining a higher prize. "I'll wait out here all night if I have to."

He rubbed his head, considering the option. Although Sara had been known to do a few crazy things…surely she wouldn't be that outrageous. Besides, once she figured that he wasn't opening the door, she would leave. Grissom couldn't penalize her for trying.

Greg wasn't even aware that he had fallen asleep, not until the ringing of his phone brought him out of a dreamless slumber. Foggily he groped for the side table, where his cell phone was not only ringing, but vibrating as well, dancing on the fake wood.

"Sanders," he stated in greeting in between a yawn.

"How are you feeling?" Grissom's tone wasn't missed, the older man was concerned. Obviously Sara had called him. Greg's eyes searched for the clock as he responded.

"Fine…I feel fine."

"Brass has everything ready, we just need confirmation," Grissom started; there was no need to explain what. "You can choose from a photo if you want, if you don't feel up to it…"

"I can do it," Greg cut him off. Was he ready? Greg wasn't sure, but there was no reason to make the crime lab think that he was even more of a chicken. "Just give me a few minutes to get cleaned up."

It had been hours, several to say the least since he last remembered being awake. There was not much else he had to do other than shower, but he lingered a few minutes anyways, trying to get a strong grip on his mind.

It was simple, easy…all he had to do was walk in, jot a few numbers down. They would never see him. Still they would know that it was him. And if they did walk…Greg let out a bitter sigh. That time would come later, what he had to focus on was now. And now, he had to get to the crime lab.

Throwing on a light coat he grabbed his car keys, only to pause once remembering his car was at the lab. It seemed as though he was taking a taxi tonight. He had taken only a step outside, frowning as he came to a stop.

Sara glared up at him from where she sat. "You know, you are stubborn as hell."

"And that makes you what?" he questioned, offering her hand.

She ignored it, making her own way up. "I've been waiting for hours, what the hell did you do, fall asleep?"

"Yes actually," Greg replied blandly, making his way to the street. Sara was close behind, not even pausing in her talking.

"Look we need to talk."

"I already know what you're going to say," Greg cut her off, "And I know why you're here."

"And what reason would that be?"

He stopped, turning around to face her. For once she looked a little intimidated, forcing Greg to relax his features some, speaking a soft voice. "Grissom wants you to apologize."

"Yes," Sara stated matter-of-factly. "But that's not why I came."

"So you're not done insulting me," Greg mused. "I really don't have time for this."

She growled, muttering under her breath as she chased him out into the parking lot. "Where are you going?"

"Grissom's waiting for me," Greg replied blandly.

"The suspects?"

Greg nodded, coming to another stop. "I need to identify them…"

Sara let out a soft breath. "You want me to come along?"

The offer was enticing; he needed a friend right now, but was Sara really the best choice? "I don't need pity," he answered quietly, taking in her sullen look, "but you can come if you want to."

* * *

The ride over there was quiet, but once inside the lab it seemed as though everything had become deathly silent. More so it didn't help that it as in between shifts, leaving the hallways empty.

Brass and Grissom were waiting for him, a slight nod in a greeting. He could already see them through the glass, already knew them by heart. They looked different in the light than they had that night in the alleyway, but it was as true as he first believed. You could never forget a face…a voice. It haunted you in your dreams, the threats replaying in your mind. Greg wanted to do nothing more than forget, yet somehow his nagging subconscious wouldn't let him.

"Three, five and six."

It had come out easily, easier than he expected.

"Are you sure?" Grissom inquired.

Greg nodded, watching as they continued to call the suspects to step forward. He hadn't even needed a second look to know. A sigh left his lips, a heavy weight already leaving his shoulders. After all this time, and that was all he needed to do? He felt worse than before.

Making his way back out into the hallway he seated himself in one of the hard plastic seats, blinking as he stared at his hands. It couldn't really be that simple, could it? He didn't look up as the chair next to him was taken, the warm presence meaning more now than it had before.

"Is that it?"

Greg nodded, looking up at her. "That's it…for now."

"They're not going to walk Greg," Sara told him in confidence, somehow reading his thoughts.

"Maybe," Greg agreed, "but you're not a judge."

"No," Sara smiled, "but I'm a damn good investigator…and so are you."

Greg laughed, shaking his head. "If I was so good then why can't I do something even when I know its right?"

Sara's smiled lessened as she shifted nervously in her chair. "We all make mistakes Greg…I thought it over a long time, and I still couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. Not until Grissom told me what to do."

"What was that?"

"He told me to put myself in your place," she answered quietly. "It took a few tries, but one thing that I've learned from Grissom is to view it from all perspectives. Then I found out something that I didn't know. I would have done the same thing you did…maybe," she added quickly. "If you started dating a guy I probably would have said something."

Greg laughed, even without meaning too as he shook his head. Her answer had caught him off guard, and he wasn't sure if it was making him feel any better or not. He caught Sara's eyes briefly before turning away. What was happening between them?

"You want to get some coffee?"

He smiled, turning to face her again. Maybe it was being a little too hopeful, but how could ignore the bait when it was so willing? So it was a small step, but one that led forward none-the-less.

"Coffee sounds nice."

**The End**


End file.
